


please keep me in mind

by allmywill



Category: Morrissey (Musician), The Smiths
Genre: Brooding, Light Angst, M/M, Rain, Short, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: Being drenched from head to toe from the rain is the least of his worries. He’s in love with his best friend, his songwriting partner, the guitarist who came and swept him away.
Relationships: Johnny Marr/Morrissey
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	please keep me in mind

**Author's Note:**

> it’s been a long time since i’ve written for this fandom, i got nostalgic. this got kinda sad!

The rain starts earlier than expected, first a few splashes on the pavement before him. It grows to a downpour before his very eyes, the weather effectively darkening his world. What was meant to be a simple walk to get his mind off a certain someone has become an involuntary shower.

Morrissey sighs into the humid air. He’s already getting soaked and he’s nowhere near anyplace to stand under. He soon finds he doesn’t care. It’s just another thing he can feel sorry for himself over, instead of the usual. Who would have thought the chill of rainwater soaked denim against his skin would be so refreshing?

He makes it to the bridge, open sky above him not letting up in the least. The water comes down in cascades and it takes no pity on him. He stops and pulls out the torn page from his journal, half-hearted scribbles of lines that he wrote with tears in his eyes. They might not even be legible. The rain makes the ink run, blue washing down the page.

_Please keep me in mind_

_Please keep me in mind_

Water gathers at the bottom of the crumpled page, then drips down into the river below. He lets his hand dangle over the side, paper soaked and flimsy in his hand. He loosens his grip and watches the paper fall, defeated by the pouring rain. It meets the river and Morrissey watches it flow away. It feels good. Letting go feels good.

He digs around in his other pocket for another page, he knows there’s got to be one somewhere. His fingers brush something, paper softened from handling it so many times. Pulling it free, he discovers it’s the original copy of his lyrics to _Reel Around the Fountain_.

“ _People see no worth in you,_ Johnny, _but I do,_ ” he whispers to himself. “I do.”

He can’t tell if he’s crying or if it’s just the rain in his eyes. It doesn’t matter. He unfolds the paper and lets the year old ink bleed. It follows the other page, drifting down and greeting the water. His words are now infused into the river, carried away where they will eventually spill out to sea. The thought comforts him. He wishes he could set himself free like that.

“ _Oh, I do,_ ” he murmurs to no one. He’s in quite the predicament at the moment.

Being drenched from head to toe from the rain is the least of his worries. He’s in love with his best friend, his songwriting partner, the guitarist who came and swept him away. He’s head over heels and none of it was ever meant to be, never meant for him. Although he’s very much aware of this, his feelings never fade. They only grow stronger as the months pass.

“ _Do you hear me when you sleep,_ Johnny? _I hoarsely cry._ ” A new song maybe. He wishes Johnny were here, though he went for this walk to forget him. But how could he forget someone who gave him the world on a silver platter, and continues to do so?

And how could he forget that he knows he doesn’t deserve any of it?

Morrissey also knows he should head home, but why go home? Just to be warm and dry, but still with the same looming sadness that he cannot seem to shake off today? Maybe he could call Johnny, hear his voice and try to convince himself everything will be okay. Or fool himself. Time and time again.

Nothing ever changes.

He stares down, the water moving. It stops for nothing, for no one. He half wishes he was that resilient, that determined. He breaks and stalls, stutters and ponders why. Water doesn’t. Water just moves, does, flows without second guessing.

He yearns to fall asleep to a soft song Johnny wrote. He closes his eyes and pictures his fingers playing along the fretboard, strumming the way he does and creating beautiful sounds. The idea is alluring, though it does little to soothe him. He needs the real thing. He needs more than a mere image in his mind.

His mind begs for the warmth of his presence, and here he stands, in the chill of the rain. A shiver runs through him. Maybe it is time to go home after all.

Turning away, he crosses the bridge. The sky seems to open up more, water even in his shoes now. He still doesn’t care. There’s a guitarist across the city whose arms he would die to be in right now, but he knows they were never meant for him. He can pretend, though. He loves to pretend.

“ _Please keep me in mind,_ ” Morrissey sighs. He pictures Johnny puffing away on a cigarette somewhere, unaware of his current brooding session. “ _Please keep me in mind._ ”


End file.
